Explanation
by Bellatrix Andromeda Narcissa
Summary: Ron and Ginny can't explain why their hearts beat faster whenever they touch. They just do. / RATED M FOR SEXUAL OCCURRENCES AND INCEST.


_Smut-ish stuff. I really like Ron and Ginny smut. Always very beautiful. Anyway, hope you like this! Thanks to Alva (supersexig odjuret) my unofficial beta reader, for looking over this._

_Disclaimer: Ron and Ginny belong to JKR._

~o()o~

Ginny's most memorable kiss was with her brother. Ginny was fifteen and Ronald was sixteen, and Ron had just told Ginny off for snogging Dean in the corridors. His words rang through her head, as she stomped up the stairs to the Boys' Dormitories and threw the door open. _D' you think I want people saying my sister's a –_

So, what had he meant, exactly? Ginny was determined to find out.

Ron looked up when the door opened. He was alone, it seemed. Harry was down in the Common Room with Hermione, Neville and Seamus, and Dean...Dean was where she'd left him, waiting patiently in the Great Hall to eat dinner with her.

"Ginny?" Ron asked, his voice flooded with alarm. "What're you doing here?"

"Why are you so against me snogging other boys?" Ginny demanded, stalking forward and standing in front of him with her arms crossed. "What's it to you, anyway?"

Ron's ears turned maroon. "I don't want to see _you_ snogging other boys in public, Ginny – "

"Don't feed me that bullshit, Ronald," Ginny snapped. "You know as well as I do that we weren't snogging in public." Then, she sighed, seating herself across from her brother on his bed, tugging at his bed sheets distractedly. She surveyed him seriously. "Listen," she told him. "I don't want you to be angry about what you saw, all right? Just – just tell me the real reason that you don't want me snogging boys – "

Ron opened his mouth, but closed it again, a moment later, looking flustered. Then – "I..." he hesitated. "I've never – I've never kissed – "

That was as far as he got. Because the next instant, his sister's lips were on his. Her _lips_ were on _his_. Perhaps if he'd been in a fitter state of mind, he would have pulled away at once. But he wasn't, so he didn't. He pulled her closer to him, letting his long fingers knot in her long, red, sweet-smelling hair. He let his fingers rove the lengths of her arms and legs, smiling as he moaned against his kiss, gently cupping her bare skin. He let himself get lost in his sister's magnificence, his sister's succulent taste, his sister's –

The door banged open. Dean walked in. His eyes widened in alarm. Then, he quickly shuffled out of the room, murmuring an hasty apology. And, Ginny rushed out after him, not sparing Ron another look, as she hurried to explain herself.

~o()o~

Ginny's most memorable trip to second base was with her brother. They were in Shell Cottage, at the height of the Second Wizarding War. Ron had deserted Harry and Hermione, and he felt terrible about it. So, he locked himself up in the bedroom Bill had offered him, and didn't speak to a single person, as he brooded over how he would ever be able to find them again.

Ginny visited Shell Cottage that week. She saw him in his bedroom. She yelled at him. She wondered how in his right mind he could've _ever_ deserted his friends like that. _How could he? How dare he?_

He yelled back, struggling to make her understand that it was an accident. _It was an accident. An accident._

They cried. They cursed.

And then, they kissed. It was unexpected. It was exhilarating. It was so _right_...and yet, it was so _wrong_. Their tears mingled as they pressed their lips furiously against the other's. Their breaths became one, their heartbeats intertwined.

Ron gave a moan of pleasure, as he dragged his sister towards his bed and flung her onto it, before lowering himself down on her, kissing her lips, licking her lips, sucking her lips. It wasn't enough. He wanted more, he wanted _her_.

Swiftly, he slipped his hand under her shirt, under her lacy bra, gently cupping her cool, bare breast. She drew in her breath sharply, eyeing him in wonder. But she did not deny him the pleasure. And so, he ripped her shirt of completely, slowly kneading her breasts between his hands, faster and faster, harder and harder, warmer and warmer. The rosy nipples became taut and erect under his touch, and he smiled at her ecstatic expression, leaning down to take one in his mouth –

The door flew open. Fleur swished in with a tray of tea and biscuits. She gasped. The tray crashed to the floor. And Ginny immediately jumped to her feet, slipping her shirt on, as she hurried forward to explain herself.

~o()o~

Ginny's most memorable oral pleasure session was with her brother. It was the night of the battle. Everyone was asleep and Ginny smiled through her tears at the sight of Harry's peaceful expression as he slept, for once completely safe from the danger of knowing that his death was lurking around every corner. Voldemort was dead.

So then, why couldn't she sleep?

Sighing softly, she pulled herself out of the bed, leaned down to kiss Harry's forehead, and slipped out of the dormitory and down into the Common Room. Rubbing her eyes, she slowly lowered herself down onto her favorite armchair, by the fireplace, happily soaking in the warmth the dying fire provided her.

"Gin?"

She jumped. Ron. He was sitting in the armchair opposite her. She felt stupid for not noticing him as she'd sat down. "What are you doing here?" she croaked.

"Couldn't sleep," he shrugged. "Came down here."

"Oh." Ginny stared at him. "Me – me too."

There was something about him that night. _Something_ about him. She didn't know what it was, but whatever it was, it was very, _very_ strong, because the next instant, she had jumped out of her chair and onto his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist as she kissed him frenziedly. She felt his arms – his warm, strong, brotherly arms – wrap around her as he kissed her back. His lips trailed down her cheeks, her chin, her neck. His hands squeezed her breasts through her shirt.

Slowly, she began grinding against his thigh, moaning loudly as the familiar moisture began building between her thighs. She ground faster and faster, more urgency with every passing moment. The wetness was overwhelming her underwear now, in danger of trickling down her thigh.

Ginny gasped in surprise, as, in one fluid motion, Ron picked her up and placed her down on the floor, hiking up her nightgown and peeling her underwear away. And Ginny mewled in sheer pleasure; it was the most amazing moment of her life, lying there with Ron's tongue savoring every last bit of her wetness. It was a relief. It was euphoria. He buried his face, further and further in between her thighs, and Ginny clutched at his hair, urging him to keep going, keep _going_ –

"What the _fuck_!"

Ginny leaped to her feet. George looked horrified, his eyes and mouth as wide as saucers, as he gaped at them from where he stood at the portrait hole, a bottle of firewhiskey dangling from his fingers. And, Ginny rushed forward at once, to explain herself.

~o()o~

Ginny's most memorable climax was with her brother. Harry was out of town, on an Aurors' raid and Hermione was staying late at the Ministry, working on some report. Ron had left Weasley Wizard Wheezes early that evening, so Ginny went to his flat, to spend some time with him.

They engaged in only a _minute's_ awkward conversation before they were kissing. Kissing. _Kissing_, like they always kissed. _Kissing_, because, inexplicably and for reasons beyond their control, they had fallen in _love_. With each other.

Ron's slammed the door to his bedroom, as he all but ran to his bed, where Ginny was already waiting for him, not a stitch of clothing on her body. Ginny's petite fingers deftly unbuttoned his shirt, and unzipped his jeans, letting them both fall to the floor, forgotten.

Ron groaned in pleasure. Ginny had draped a leg over his waist, so she was straddling him...massaging him...stroking him...

Ron didn't hesitate when he finally lay herself down beneath him. He thrust in. _Hard_.

Hermione came home far too soon that night. Ginny was moaning at the top of her lungs, as Ron spilled into her, warm and slow and _delicious_...when the door clicked open, the lights snapped on, and Hermione stood there, a hand on her mouth.

And, for the first time in her life, Ginny did not have an explanation.


End file.
